


Playing with Grandma(ma)

by aparticularbandit



Series: Roisa Fic Week 2k19 [4]
Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 21:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit
Summary: Luisa and Rose meet Mia's spawn.Fulfillment of Kids AU Prompt for Roisa Fic Week 2k19.





	Playing with Grandma(ma)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me have my little bit of crack moment. I had an idea, and I was amused, and here, it exists now. ^^

It’s been years.

Years upon years of happily ever after. Of learning what it means to _grow old together_. Of Luisa slowly growing gray hairs and letting them stand out bright against the dark ones that were left (at first, Rose called her the stinky skunk girl, until there was almost as much gray as there was the deep brown, and then Rose would thread her fingers through and call her _beautiful_, _beautiful_, _beautiful_ and Luisa felt as she always had). Of Rose finding _her_ first white hair and Luisa coming back to find her bent over a sink, washing out hair dye meant to keep her hair the bright red she knew and loved (and, eventually, of Rose bleaching her hair white so that she looked as old as Luisa did). Of winkles appearing at the edges of their eyes – _crow’s feet_ – and crinkling around their lips – _laughter lines_ – and appearing to connect the freckles dotting Rose’s skin. Of each of them calling each other out for having _sagging breasts_ (although Luisa called them _boobies_ only to have Rose give her the annoyed sort of look that meant she loved her, one that Luisa answered with a smile of her own).

And, of course, the birth of their daughter, Rose’s genes grown within Luisa’s skin, the most beautiful brown-eyed, redheaded, freckle-covered child either of them had ever seen, named _Mia Marie_ after both of their parents and _Alver-Ruvelle_ after both of them (because Luisa wouldn’t leave her mother’s last name and she wanted to respect Rose’s heritage even if Rose herself didn’t).

Mia, who grew like a weed, with more energy than either of them knew what to do with, bouncing off of walls and learning parkour and climbing up trees and buildings and making Luisa afraid that she would kill herself every time she jumped and bounded, even knowing that Mia had trained her body to be able to do and handle and react to these things and live without thinking.

Mia, who somehow was not like either of them and somehow settled down with a _man_. Briefly. Long enough to get herself pregnant and then suddenly didn’t want anything to do with him ever again. And then got herself stuck in a tree because she’d forgotten that parkour when she was pregnant wasn’t a good idea and called him to pick her up, and when he did, she decided maybe, _maybe_ he was worth keeping.

Mia, who had absolutely refused to let either of her mothers be part of her pregnancy because Luisa would have been a hovering mother who knew more than the doctor because _she_ had been a doctor and needlessly correcting everything that was said and if _Rose_ had gone _without_ Luisa, there would have been damage done to their relationship in the form of _Rose, you have to tell me everything so I can tell you what to say the next time you go_ – which is to say that Luisa wanted very much to be involved but Rose knew better than to get within a fifty foot pole’s length of any doctor’s appointments or visits and spent most of her time keeping her wife busy with other things.

Mia, who hadn’t broken down when she gave birth and made sure Rose had kept Luisa far away until after it was all over, who was _finally_ allowing her parents to meet her spawn.

* * *

“And this,” Mia said, holding out a little bundle of dark hair, closed eyes, and freckles dusting her nose, “is Roisa.”

Luisa took the little girl and held her in her arms, cooing gently, before she understood what her daughter said. She blinked a couple of times and looked up. “Her name is _what_ now?”

“Roisa,” Mia repeated, watching her mother with big, round, unblinking brown eyes. “Why?”

Luisa took great care not to look up at Rose’s face because she was certain if she did the expression alone would break her composure. “And where,” she said, rocking her granddaughter back in forth in her arms, “did you get the idea for that name?”

“Well, it’s Rose and Luisa smashed together. And I wanted to name her after both of you, just like you named me after both of my grandmothers, but I thought – you know – _Roisa_ is a nice name. Kind of like Renesme _Breaking Dawn_ – you know, Bella’s daughter—”

Rose _shoved_ Luisa’s arm then – not hard enough to get her to jostle the still not awake girl in her arms, but enough for the baby to scrunch up her face. “This is _your_ fault. I _told_ you those vampire books were trash.”

“They’re not trash!” Luisa looked up, frowning at Rose. “I enjoyed them!”

“Luisa, they’re _trash_.”

It was an argument that they’d had too many times over the course of their relationship, and yet it still hadn’t quite grown too old for them to keep from having it again. “Look, I identify a lot with Bella. She falls in love with a deeply brooding guy who is addicted to her who is afraid that his true nature will destroy her – that’s _you_, by the way – and then her best friend falls in love with her and is afraid that she’s going to be destroyed by her relationships – which is Raf, if you take out the _falling in love_ bit – but if you do the falling in love bit, Jacob is _so_ protective and that’s you, too – _and then_ you have the head of the good vampires being a doctor – which is _me_ – and they keep moving around all the time so that people can’t figure out what they are – which is _us_ – and, and!” Here she held up one finger to keep Rose from interrupting. “Bella’s like me because she is able to keep Edward from reading her mind like he can read everyone else’s mind which is like how my emotions are so big that half of the time you don’t understand them.”

“_Yes_,” Rose said between gritted teeth, the muscle in her jaw clenching, “but we both agree that Bella’s naming skills are _absolutely horrible_.”

“That’s true, that’s true.”

“And those naming skills gave birth to _this_—”

“_Hey!_” Mia grabbed Rose’s arm and gave it a sharp tug. “Are you saying that my naming skills are bad? Because I was trying to honor both of you by naming my daughter—”

“I am _not_ calling my granddaughter _Roisa_.” Rose’s eyes narrowed, and she turned the full weight of her glare on Mia. “You have to rename her.”

“Rose, you can’t just rename a baby,” Luisa said, brushing her hand through the baby’s hair. “And it’s not…_that_ bad. It’s a nice name. It has a nice ring to it.” She looked up and met Mia’s eyes with an awkward sort of grin. “I’m glad that you were trying to honor us, but—”

“You don’t like it.” Mia pouted, but there was a twinkle in her eye. “Which means it’s a good thing that’s not actually her name.”

“It’s actually not her—”

Rose let out a low groan, one hand kneading her forehead. “I should have known.” She looked back at her daughter, crystal blue eyes taking in her bright grin. “No daughter of mine could be _that_ stupid.”

Mia laughed a bit and leaned up on her tiptoes – she hadn’t inherited Rose’s height, as much as she’d hoped to be able to be taller than _both_ of her parents – to press a kiss to her mom’s cheek. “Of course not. You raised me too well for that.”

“Except for the _Twilight_ books,” Luisa said, her expression smug even as Rose shot her a dirty look. “She failed on that.”

“That one was _your_ fault, not mine. I tried to turn her away from those trash romance novels—”

“You mean like Aunt Jane writes.”

“Hey, we don’t knock Aunt Jane.” Luisa cradled the baby in her arms a little closer.

Rose rolled her eyes. “No. Saying her name is almost a curse. _She who must not be named._”

“I still don’t understand how you can knock _Twilight_ and like _Harry Potter_,” Luisa mumbled. “At least Meyer is smart enough to not try and change things or make social media comments.”

“I can like the books without liking the author. Or agreeing with _anything_ she says.”

This, too, was an old argument, and after making her last comment, Luisa turned to her daughter with a gentle smile. “So if her name isn’t Roisa, what is it?”

“Well,” and here Mia lowered her head, shuffled one of her feet, scuffed her shoe along the floor, “here’s the thing.”

“It can’t be worse than Roisa.” Rose turned to face her daughter, her arms crossed. “Just spit it out. I don’t want to keep calling her _baby_.”

Mia grinned and brushed some of her red curls out of her face. “Her name is Clara Rose.” Then she looked up, eyes meeting her mom’s expectantly, waiting for her reaction.

Luisa couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face, and the little girl in her arms, as though on hearing her name, blinked her eyes open, revealing the darkest shade of brown she’d ever seen interspersed with golds and greens. Little Clara blinked another couple of times and then gave a great yawn before reaching one tiny little hand out to grab one of Luisa’s unkempt strands of hair. Luisa slowly untangled her hair from Clara’s hand, and the little child grabbed onto her finger instead. Then Luisa looked up to meet Rose’s eyes, her own twinkling.

For her part, Rose hadn’t moved, her eyes still focused on her daughter, trying to get a read on whether or not she was joking. When Mia’s face didn’t change, her gaze wandered over to the child still held in Luisa’s arms. It flicked back to Mia briefly before she walked over a little closer, focusing entirely on the baby, whose eyes moved to watch the new person coming into view.

“Just me?” Rose asked, her voice very small. “Not your mom?”

“No,” Mia said, her voice soft. “This one is all yours.”

Rose looked up at Luisa, and her wife slowly moved Clara from her arms into Rose’s. “Hey,” Rose said, and she still felt just as awkward holding a child as she had when Mia had been small. “Clara,” she added hesitantly, looking up to Mia for confirmation, and Mia just nodded. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.” She smiled. “And that your name isn’t as bad as your mom made it out to be.”

Mia laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. “I’m glad you like it.”

Rose’s eyes didn’t move from the child in her arms. “I love it.”

Then a knocking came at the door, and Mia’s grin spread. “That’s Trey, hold on.” She scampered – because even as an adult, Mia almost always scampered everywhere she went, much to her mothers’ dismay – and opened the front door, holding it wide so that her fiancé could come in.

“Hey, y’all!” Trey had a huge grin on his face as he entered, a car seat carrier in one hand. “I see you’ve met Roisa!”

“No go, Trey, I already told them,” Mia said, giving his shoulder a shove.

“Yes,” Rose said, looking up to give Trey a cold stare. “And we were _quite_ delighted.”

“Hey, I liked it.” Luisa walked over to Trey and gave him a one-armed hug. “Is that Mia’s carrier?”

Trey’s brows raised, and he turned to Mia. “You didn’t tell them _everything_.”

“I told them what they needed to know,” Mia said, crossing her arms.

Trey shook his head. Then he lifted the carrier and placed it carefully on the table next to him. He unhooked the bundle inside and slowly lifted it in his arms. “This,” he said, voice firm, “is—”

“Don’t say Roisa,” Luisa interrupted, holding one finger up. “We’ve already had that argument, and I don’t think my heart could take it if you were to do it again.”

With a laugh, Trey held the baby out for Luisa to take. “No, this is Emilio Luis.”

Luisa took the other baby from his arms and was met with a dark-skinned baby with even darker, curly hair and the same spattering of freckles across his cheeks as Clara’s. Her eyes lifted to meet Mia’s briefly. “Emilio Luis.”

“For you and for the grandpa I never met.”

Luisa’s eyes shifted to Rose, who had frozen with the baby she still held in her arms. Rose didn’t look up, instead focused entirely on little Clara. “He wasn’t much of a man you wanted to meet.”

“You can call him Luis, if you want,” Trey said, moving over to place a hand on Rose’s back. “You don’t have to call him by his first name if you don’t want. I’m sure he’d love being called by either.”

Rose turned her head just enough to face Trey, and she let out a deep breath, relaxing. “Or maybe I’ll grow up and call him by his name. Just because I didn’t like Luisa’s father doesn’t make it a bad name.” Her eyes met his briefly. “And it’s better than _Roisa_, so I can’t complain.”

“I knew it was a good idea to lead with that.” Mia grinned. “Everything sounds better after a bad portmanteau name.”

“Ugh, quit your big words,” Luisa said, waving one hand in the air, “and let us spend time with our grandchildren.” She leaned over to press a kiss to the tip of Mia’s nose. “Go have your date night. We’ll be able to take care of them just fine.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mia said as Trey pulled her against him with one arm. “You did a great job with me, after all.”

Luisa’s eyes widened, and she turned to Rose. “She’s complimenting us. Whose child is this? Did someone swap her out for a twin? Or a _triplet_?”

“_Mom._” Mia shoved Luisa’s arm again.

“Hey, it’s possible!” Luisa grinned. “You two get going. _Now._ Don’t be a hovering mom.”

Mia’s eyes focused on her kids in both of her mothers’ arms, and she nodded once. “Yeah. No hovering. Got it.” She took one of Trey’s hands in her own. “Let’s go. We have all the time in the world.”


End file.
